


Heat Wave

by Belle86



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, F/M, Mako Being Devious, Mindless Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 15:38:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2393765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belle86/pseuds/Belle86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mako had every intention of fixing the air conditioner.  But if Herc is going to insist on walking around their apartment sweaty and shirtless, maybe the AC will have to stay broken for a little while longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat Wave

**Author's Note:**

> This is the product of wine and 2am and me being stuck on my other fics at the moment.
> 
> Also this tumblr prompt:
> 
> Imagine it being the hottest week of the year where your OTP lives. The air conditioner is broken, but Person B puts off getting it fixed, much to Person A's annoyance, because they like watching Person A walk around without a shirt.

Mako had rebuilt a jaeger.

She could easily fix an air conditioner.

And she had every intention of fixing the air conditioner in their newly-purchased apartment. 

But the day she’d come back from the market with the groceries (he thought he knew what he wanted but always ended up taking forty minutes to decide on breakfast cereal, so she’d just taken the task over for both their sakes) and had been greeted with the sight of Herc sprawled out on their sofa, one hand clutching a cold beer and the other scratching Max’s ears, in nothing but worn, threadbare khaki shorts, a voice in the back of her head reminded her that human kind had gone millions of years without air conditioning, so the two of them could live another day.

That voice spoke up again as she watched him grab a couple of ice cubes from the freezer and run them over the back of his neck and his face, which was flushed red from the heat. 

As the cubes melted, the trickles of water had run down the corded tendons in his neck, and curved over the firm, cut planes of his chest, making their way down his abdominals and through the dusting of dark red curls to pool in the waistband of his shorts, darkening the fabric in small crescents.

It almost embarrassed her how empty her repeated promise to fix the damn thing was. Almost.

 _This summer’s hottest week_ , the newscasts had said, _Quite the heatwave we’re having here, folks_.

After three days, Mako again found herself tinkering with the central AC unit rather than putting effort into actually fixing it, her mind constantly drifting to images of Herc dragging one of the popsicles they had in the freezer down her spine, only to lick up the juices and replace the cool with the wet heat of his tongue. 

Then he’d turn her over and do the same across her stomach, before just sucking the popsicle into his mouth, biting it a bit at the tip as he gripped the edge of her shorts with his free hand, then he’d drop his mouth to suck her nipple between his lips, now cold from the popsicle, and she’d shiver against him and he’d move to do the same to her other breast, but in between he’d say--

“Mako?”

\--and she’d moan his name as he popped the button on her shorts, pushing past the denim and into her panties with hot, blunt fingers. He’d tease her a bit there, wouldn’t he? He always does, never gives her the pressure that she wants right off the bat--

“Mako?”

\--always strokes around her clit and along her folds to get her really revved up and squirming before honing in on the slick, swollen nub to force some kind of undignified sound out of her and make her back arch and--

“Mako!”

Her eyes fly open and she looks up, finding Herc standing in front of her where at some point she’d turned and settled on the floor with her back against the wall next to the AC unit. Her hand had drifted down to rest between her thighs, currently pushing the flats of all four fingers against against the thick, seamed denim at her crotch.

Herc cocks his head, a bemused expression painting his features, and crouches down to be at her level, “I know I’m not as young as I used to be, but do I really need to be worried about competing with an air con unit for your affection?”

Makos cheeks flush, if they can get any redder beyond being flushed from the heat, “it isn’t that, I just, um,” she struggles to find the words to excuse her from purposefully torturing them both for the sole purpose of stocking her spank bank - even post Kaiju War, they were busy people, they weren’t always in the same place at the same time, and a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

“Can you not fix this? Do we need to call a guy?” Herc asks.

She rolls her eyes, “absolutely not, I can repair this with my eyes closed.” It isn’t until the words are out of her mouth that she realizes what she’s just said.

Herc leans back on his haunches and gives her a hard look, “then why has it been three days of the Devil’s fucking fire in this flat?”

Mako bites her lower lip and while her mind races to come up with _something_ that won’t give away what a dirty pervert she’s been, her eyes betray her and skip their way down his chest, bare yet again, beads of sweat between hard, muscled pecs. One glistening, salty droplet makes its escape and runs down the length of his torso, barely missing his navel to catch in the worn fabric of his shorts, underneath which, Mako knows, he’s forgone underwear.

She can’t stop the whine that creeps out of her throat, and he follows her gaze to himself, then looks back up to her face.

When she meets his eyes, chocolate brown meeting with fevered blue, the look he gives her turns wolfish, “so, Miss Mori,” he leans forward to box her against the wall, raising the temperature in the space between them at least five degrees, “you’ve been keeping our humble abode here as hot as Satan’s bloody bollocks just to use me as your own personal eye candy?”

She can’t answer with words, just widens her eyes and grips the wrench still somehow in her hand a little tighter.

“Well that’s just naughty now, isn’t it?” He leans even closer, bringing their mouths within millimeters of each other, their breath mingling, hot and sweet.

The register of his voice drops impossibly lower, “why don’t you fix this mess here and when you’re done I’ll show you what happens to naughty girls who keep the temperature up too high, hmm?”

Two fingers toy with a blue end of her hair and when she can’t find words to answer him, his mouth comes crashing into hers, his tongue plunging hard and insistent between her lips, sucking the air from her lungs and sense from her overheated brain.

He pulls back with a loud smacking noise and raises an eyebrow at her, demanding an answer to his question. Mako nods feverishly and raises the wrench with a weak hand, watching with wide eyes as he rises from his crouched position and makes his way to the bedroom, his every step belying the rock star jaeger pilot he used to be.

It takes her precisely six minutes to fix the AC unit.

It takes fifteen more before she’s panting through her second orgasm, pressed face-first against the cold tile of their shower with the cool water from the showerhead running over both of their overheated skin.

And as Herc continues thrusting deep inside her slick, oversensitive heat, hissing a stream of filth in her ear, that voice in the back of her mind tells her that the AC might have to break again sometime soon.


End file.
